Don't Stop Loving Me
by anjumstar
Summary: AU. Tragic St. Berry. Alone in New York, Rachel and Jesse meet and spend a summer in love. When their love goes too far, they have to suffer the consequences. Loosly inspired by the song Red Ragtop by Tim McGraw—not a songfic!


**Don't Stop Loving Me**

**WARNING: **This story is rated a strong T for mature subject matter (abortion), sexual situations, and coarse language. If you are uncomfortable with the topic of abortion than this is not the story for you.

**Summary:** AU. Tragic St. Berry. Alone in New York, Rachel and Jesse meet and spend a summer in love. When their love goes too far, they have to suffer the consequences. Loosly inspired by the song Red Ragtop by Tim McGraw—_not_ a songfic!

**Pairings:** St. Berry.

**Ages:** Rachel is about 20-22 and Jesse is two years older.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own, nor am I affiliated in any way with Glee. I also do not own the song Red Ragtop, from which this story is inspired. This story is merely for entertainment.

**A/N: **This story is only inspired by the song Red Ragtop—it is not the same as it in the least. I personally don't like songfics and that is in no way what this story is. Just wanted you to know. I still do recommend listening to the song; it's really great, if slightly depressing.

* * *

She was beautiful.

Hair so long it was like the sun rays got tangled up in the strands, weaving their way in the darkness until her hair shimmered with life. It made shivers go down his spine and his stomach clench almost painfully. This girl was clearly fate bestowing an angel on earth just for him.

She was standing at the corner opposite him as they both waited for the light to change at the busy New York intersection. He found himself willing the street to melt away in the hot summer air if only to pull them and their squares of sooty cement closer together.

He didn't know her and she didn't know him and on the streets of New York that meant that your language was mute. Not a word was to be spoken and not a glance exchanged between strangers was the unspoken rule.

He was never one for following rules.

And apparently neither was she.

The light changed, taking his life off pause and he carried himself forward as she did the same, their bodies moving like magnets drawn to the point where their energy was destined to meet. He couldn't help but look at her and smile, her face making him feel so light that the corners of his mouth rose like they were floating on his face.

She looked up from the asphalt and met his gaze, surprise lacing her expression for only a moment before she matched his smile with a twinkle in her eyes.

* * *

The next time he saw her, his hesitation melted away. This time they weren't at a street corner. Well, they were but it was inside a coffee shop instead of outside. He was standing behind her in line and recognized her chocolate locks immediately. Almost as though she could feel his leering gaze boring into the back of her head, she turned around. He smiled charmingly at her and she smiled back, this time wide and unabashed. Clearly she remembered him too. He could have sworn that that was the end and she had swallowed him up into that gorgeous mouth of hers.

It had been a long day and he was headed home—no real plans of any sort. The coffee was just needed as a pick-me-up so that he could focus on studying his lines. Even though he had been fully intent of doing just that, he couldn't think of any better way of ending his day than actually speaking to the girl who had filled his fantasies for the past nights.

"Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you too."

The girl turned away from him to place her order, her shifting hair causing a waft of vanilla to hit his nose pleasantly. As she moved to unzip her purse and pay for her drink, he stepped beside her and lay some cash down on the counter, saying, "Same for me."

She looked up at him, surprise glinting in her brown eyes as she thanked him for paying.

Instead of heading home, the two of them sat at a small, secluded table and sat and talked for hours. They found they were practically the same people with shockingly similar lives. He found himself surprised that this was only his second time seeing her.

They wasted away the evening, lost in conversation without a care. His lines were not only not memorized but completely forgotten as he sat mesmerized by the girl's flawless face and her silky-smooth voice. She said her name was Rachel and she, like him, was in the city pursuing musical theatre. Her voice was so entrancing when she spoke he could only imagine what it would sound like when she sang.

Soon the store was closing and their drinks were long-empty. This couldn't be the last time he saw her, though, and he still had to hear her voice. She proposed a karaoke bar and he suggested Friday.

She said it was a date.

* * *

She was amazing.

Her voice was effortless, the perfect combination of training and natural talent proving its worth as her voice washed over him like none other ever had before. She was his perfect match—he was sure of it.

The only way to know for sure, though, was to sing a duet. He went through his mind's internal playlist, searching for the song that would be perfect for him and this perfect girl, knowing that whatever song he chose would be _their_ song.

_Hello _by Lionel Richie seemed to say it all.

They were completely in tune with each other, musically, physically, and mentally. The melody flowed between the two of them and everyone in the club seemed captivated by their harmonious sound.

Every time he looked at Rachel he knew how they felt.

This was a girl that belonged on stage. It looked like he had finally met his match.

They decided to go to another bar, claiming that they had to give everyone else in this joint a chance on stage. And who would want to follow the two of them?

So they went to somewhere a little dirtier, a little darker, and a little crazier—the very epitome of New York. It wasn't his usual scene and he guessed that it wasn't Rachel's either but it wasn't long after they had a few drinks in them that they found themselves singing along to every song that came one as though it was their anthem or declaration of love to the other.

Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was their hearts beating faster with the upbeat rhythm of the music, or maybe it was just each other, but soon they found their lips moving against each other rather than with the music.

It was then that Rachel told him her place was only a few blocks away.

He wasn't altogether sure that they could have managed to walk to her apartment. They were drunk off the alcohol as much they were drunk on each other. Either way, it was no problem for him to pay a cab. The real problem lay in keeping his hands to himself and keeping the two of them from being kicked out of the cab.

This girl was magnetic. She had to be. That was the only explanation for why he was so very drawn to her. That and her amazing voice, of course.

So it was no wonder that the two of them pressed their bodies against each other so, cursing the seatbelts that kept them snapping back against their seats. They strained, but no amount of contact was enough. Luckily, they only had to struggle for a few minutes before they found themselves in front of her building. Finally.

It took every ounce of restraint to be a gentleman and follow her up to her apartment rather than just push her against the cool brick of the building and take her right there. And the way she was looking at him he could tell that she was almost begging him to.

The second her door clicked behind them he found Rachel jumping on him, her legs wrapped around his waist and her lips pressed almost violently against his.

He only stumbled back slightly in surprise, quickly righting himself and securing his strong hands on her waist. Thanking all of his years of dance, he easily held her on his hips, keeping her balanced as she took her hands off his shoulders to remove her dress. She quickly threw it on the floor and moved on to her bra. While she busied herself with that he walked them both to her room. This was a girl that deserved to be fucked properly, taken in the bed instead of against her wall.

They could always get to that later.

He laid her easily on the bed, her legs never unlocking from around his waist, even as he shuffled out of his pants.

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, heavy with desire. He had never wanted a girl more than he wanted this girl right in this second.

And so he had her, again and again and again.

* * *

They fell in love with each other quickly and completely.

Both of them were in shows and classes, typical of the crazy life the two had thrust themselves into. But they loved it and it made them cherish their time together even more.

They both were busy with their separate rehearsals for the next few weeks. They made time for each other but that time was few and far between. As much as they both loved each other neither would sacrifice one passion for another. It was ludicrous to even suggest the idea of cutting practice time for more time with each other. Their craft came first. But all the time that wasn't devoted to rehearsing was spent with each other.

That's why it surprised him when she called him up one night out of the blue. It wasn't aligned with their scheduled time—and neither of them frequently deviated from their schedules.

It was even more surprising when voice he heard on the other side was thick with sobs. He only heard a few words, but the message was clear: come over _now_.

He immediately went out the door with a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach and made the familiar route to her apartment. He didn't even have to knock—she knew how long it took him to get there.

The door whipped open and he saw red, puffy eyes, glistening with residual tears. She had clearly been crying, but had wiped away the tears and gave him a sad smile. She had a good show face, but it was cracking.

Reflexively, he put his arms around her and she began to cry into his chest, clutching at his shirt. Her emotions were more important to him than his own and her wracking sobs pained him to his core.

Through her heaving and hiccupping, he managed to hear her murmur two words into his chest. The two words that he was dreading hearing but had known were a possibility the second he put down the phone.

She managed to pull her face out of his shirt for just a moment as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and scared.

"Do you still love me?"

He didn't know how he did it, but he managed a small smile and put his thumbs on her cheekbones, wiping her tears away.

"Please don't stop loving me."

He pulled her back into his chest, holding her even closer than before.

"Never."

* * *

The waiting room was cold and hardly hospitable. As much as he hated being there, he was glad that he had come with her. He would have hated the thought of her coming here alone.

He held her hand as they walked to the front desk. The receptionist had kind eyes but no amount of reassurance that was in them would ease either of their minds.

They had been through it over and over again. They were in their golden years for their careers. She couldn't take a year off and he couldn't either. He knew the decision pained her, as it did him, but they didn't have much of a choice. Give both of their lives up or give a not-yet-existent life up? Thinking about it that way made bile rise in his throat, but they both agreed it was the only logical decision.

They wouldn't regret it.

They would be stars on Broadway and when they were up there on stage thanking their families for winning a Tony they wouldn't regret it.

Hating each other and this child forever for making them give up their dreams was definitely something they would regret.

"Miss Berry?"

No turning back.

* * *

No regrets.

Every time they looked at each other and recognized the pain in the other's eyes they would grab each other's hands and say that.

No regrets.

Each time they said it they almost believed it.

Weeks later they both went to each other's shows and watched each other do the thing that they were meant to do and they almost believed it.

They were still the same people doing the same thing, but that one thing changed them in ways that they couldn't identify.

Their routine whenever it became too much was to look into each other's eyes and ask, "Never stop loving me?" and the other would always reply without hesitation, "Never."

But the words felt different and tasted bitter.

She still entranced him and finally seeing her really perform onstage was almost magical. She truly was perfect for him and they were each other's perfect match. They would walk through the New York streets with nothing but the summer air between them. Yet it felt like the weight of the world rested on them and no one but the other understood the real pain that plagued them.

She never told her dads. She gave him a slight smile and claimed that there was nothing to tell.

They both knew he wouldn't tell his parents—they didn't even know he was living in New York much less anything else about his life.

One night the tension became unbearable. Whenever they felt that weight one of them would go for their routine. This time it was Jesse. He put a loving smile on his face, one that he saved only for Rachel and put her chin in his fingers, moving her face towards his.

"Never stop loving me?"

No reply.

* * *

_Five Years Later_

Every time he saw her was like the first time all over again. The prickles on the back of his neck and the tightening in his stomach came back like déjà vu. He would just close his eyes and look away and the tingles would fade and he could once again breathe. Opening his eyes again was the hope that taking her out of his vision would be like turning on the light after having a nightmare. But the world never became bathed with light and she never washed away with it. At least for that moment, though, she was out of sight and out of mind.

But never for long because he saw her everywhere.

It was like his world was on constant loop with her face the only thing in focus in a blurred out screen. The streets of New York bustled with petite brunette girls, and every time he saw one his heart gave a painful little flip. Every show he saw he searched the Playbill for her name without even realizing it.

Every day he saw her on the face of some passerby. Her face was ingrained in his memory and it projected on the world around him with painful accuracy. She was so omnipresent that he stopped feeling shocked when he saw her. No more did anxiety clutch at his heart and sweat cling to his palms. The only thing that kept the needling pain from driving him crazy was that her face gave the dull New York streets a wash of beauty.

So one day when he saw her he wasn't surprised. He went through his normal routine of closing his eyes and shaking his head to clear it, the physical action doing little to assuage the unforgiving weight in his mind.

As his own rule, he never looked directly at her. And since the girl her face was projected on didn't actually know him, she never looked at him.

He was never one for following rules.

This time even after closing his eyes and shaking his head, he gave a little look her way to make sure that that her face had indeed vanished with the blink of an eye.

Unlike all the times before, her face didn't vanish.

This was it, he had finally gone crazy. The first time he saw her he knew this girl was the thing that would send him around the bend and it had finally happened. With a desperate groping grasp for his last semblance of sanity he squeezed his eyes shut again, this time massaging his temples. He reopened his eyes, and there she was again, looking down at the pavement and rapidly approaching him.

Well, if she wouldn't disappear from his eyes he would at least please himself by looking at her. It was slightly masochistic, embracing the dagger in his heart at looking at her, but she was so beautiful it was true plain with pleasure.

Soon they were only a few feet apart. Crazy as he believed he now was, he couldn't really believe that this girl wasn't an apparition his mind had created out of loose memories. It was her.

It was really her.

Against his will, he began to smile that smile that he always had saved only for her. He couldn't help it. After everything, she still spawned that knee-jerk reaction in him. A part of him hoped that she wouldn't notice that he was there and she could continue to be a ghost in his life. But a larger part of him was dying to see her eyes again, not just see his imagination's version of her eyes.

It seemed fate made its decision.

She looked up from the asphalt and met his gaze, surprise lacing her expression for only a moment before she matched his smile with a twinkle in her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Alright, I really love this couple, but for some reason I can't write anything but the most obscure oneshots for them. Anyway, I really hope that you enjoyed this story and that the ending gave you a little bit of hope, unlike the song. So, please comment and review-St. Berry requests are very welcome by the way! I have one other St. Berry oneshot but uh...I don't really recommend you read it. It's even stranger than this one and it's not great. And yes, I know what occurred in this story is slightly out of character, but I hope that you didn't find most of it too OOC.

Thanks for reading! Leave friendly feedback!


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